Break
by Lovebird567
Summary: Description : When the Dark Lord asks Severus Snape to perform quite a devilish assignment, he must do his best to succeed. But little did he know, how difficult his task will be and how hard it is to keep a secret as though the Dark Lord has requested. Warning! Involves underage pregnancy and rape. No post on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 The Task

Severus Snape was a grey area. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't good either. Professor Dumbledore trusted him and so did everyone else. But, little did he know how much Lord Voldemort trusted him. He trusted Severus Snape enough to give him one of the toughest assignments he has ever given.

"Severus, I have a task for you." Lord Voldemort said.

"Yes, my Lord." Severus replied, eager to learn more.

"I need you to help me. You have a close connection with the Potter boy, do you not?" Voldemort asked.

"In a sense." Snape answered.

"So, you know his...friends?"

"I know of every current Hogwarts student, Weasley and Granger make no exception." Snape informed Voldemort.

"Harry Potter, unlike you, unlike me, unlike the rest of my Death Eaters, cares for people. That can break him. I need to break him before I kill him. It's so much more satisfying. Will you do that for me?"

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" Snape asked. His hands writhed underneath the table at which Voldemort and himself sat.

"Through the people he cares about, his friends, Weasley and Granger. Particularly Granger, she's the interesting one. Mind more...developed." Voldemort said.

"You want me to kill Granger, torture Granger? What exactly do you want me to do with her?" Snape inquired.

"No not killing, not torturing, that's not quite it. I want you to dig down into the deepest parts of her vulnerability, let her lose everything she had, including Potter. Rape her Severus. Rape her and impregnate her. Take all that she has. Make her terrified." Voldemort assigned.

Snape stomach clenched. The words spilling out of the Dark Lord's mouth disgusted him. It was one of the most difficult things trying to keep his face straight.

"You want me to rape and impregnate Hermione Granger?" Snape asked for confirmation.

"Precisely. One more thing. This must be a secret. Nobody can know of your indecent acts to Granger, especially not Potter. You must convince her to bottle it all up inside." Voldemort made his last condition.

Snape agreed, leaving the Dark Lord's companionship to return home for planning. But Snape didn't return to Spinner's End. He instead flew to Hogwarts, where his most respected colleague and mentor Albus Dumbledore was staying for summer. He was preparing for Voldemort's attacks and manipulating schedules so that he could cancel finals at any moment.

"What am I going to do?" Snape questioned. Dumbledore was sitting unnaturally uncomfortable at his desk. He was usually so calm, but with the contemplation at hand he couldn't help but squirm.

"Well, I'm afraid to say Severus that I have no idea." Dumbledore answered.

"But you're never afraid. Please, help me." Snape requested. He was practically pleading on his knees, begging for a do-over.

"How did Voldemort seem? Was he frightened?" Dumbledore investigated, regaining his calm demeanor.

"He seemed almost joyful." Snape answered. His hands shaking. The even mention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named after the despicable events he requested, chilled Snape to the core.

"You have to do it."

"What?"

"You have to do it. I'm sorry Severus, but it's the only way you're going to be able to gain his trust." Dumbledore informed Snape, giving him an empathetic look.

"I don't know if I can-"

"You have too. I'm sorry."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and Ron were in a heated match of wizard chess and Hermione was doing Charms homework.

"Rook to D4." Ron commanded as the pronged piece glided over the board.

"Damn." Harry swore. "Queen to H3." The same happened with Harry's queen.

"Please excuse me." Hermione requested, uncrossing her legs and placing the Charms essay beside the cushion she sat on. She entered the bathroom.

Hermione turned on the tap and placed her hands underneath it. The heat was sweltering this summer, especially in Grimmauld Place. Hermione splashed her face with the cool water. Unfortunately, now that the tap was running, and the pipes moaned, she couldn't hear the gentle creaking of footsteps up the stairs and down the hallways.

"Checkmate!" Ron shouted down the hall, and the howls of laughter and defeat echoed down the hall, blurring out the footsteps for the rest of the apartment floor.

Hermione jumped at the sound of the door opening. And there, in the doorway, was Professor Snape, staring back at Hermione. He wasn't looking in her eyes, he didn't seem to have the courage to do that.

Snape closed the door behind him, mumbled some type of spell over the room's walls, and returned to Hermione's terrified gaze. Snape spread his hand over Hermione's wrists. She screamed out, but it seemed as though nobody could hear her. Snape bound together Hermione's hands with his wand and lowered her down, cautious to not hit her head on the tub. Hermione kicked and squirmed and screamed, but it didn't do anything. Snape slowed Hermione's legs and then head as though they were in molasses.

Hermione had no idea of what was going on, but she didn't like it. She hated Snape. She hated whatever he was doing to her. And she hated this bathroom floor. Once Hermione finally realized what was going on, she was scared even further.

Snape started to lower Hermione's pj shorts. She screamed even louder, begging for somebody to save her. Hermione felt something plunge into her, like a corpse in freezing cold water.

Snape slid his hands over Hermione's mouth, muffling her screaming. "You need to listen to me. You can't tell anybody of this incident. It will cause great harm to you and your friends if anybody is to know. Do you understand?"

Hermione continued screaming through Snape's fingers licking and biting at them, but the odd slowing charm prevented her from doing so.

"Do you understand?" Snape asked again. He seemed to peer into Hermione's inner most mind. She wouldn't tell anybody. At least, that was the conclusion he came to.

"I'm so sorry." Snape apologized through a groggy voice, as though he were crying. Snape got off the floor, swished his cloak behind him, and with one flick of his wand, removed all of the charms on Hermione and the bathroom. He left without another sound.

Hermione lay slumped on the bathroom floor, silent tears dripping out of her eyes. She sat there for minutes, but she had to push through. Snape told her, nobody could know. He seemed so threatening about it, so sincere about the harm he would inflict. So, Hermione, wanting no one to be suspicious, got off the floor. She tiptoed to Harry and Ron's room, whispered, "I'm going to sleep. Goodnight." And left. She completely forgot about her Charms homework, but Harry and Ron didn't seem to notice. They were too engaged in their second chess match.

Hermione crawled into her covers. Ginny in bed yet, and Hermione was grateful for that. She lay with the light on, on her back, crying silently. Hermione appeared to not be able to make noise anymore, no louder than a mouse anyway. She felt broken.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 The Aftermath

Hermione woke the next morning with a pulsing pain in her head. It was as though she had been wearing a helmet full of pebbles. She couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing with the events of last night.

Ginny had slid into bed later that night. She fell asleep faster than Fluffy. Hermione lay in the sheets staring at Ginny's flaming red hair. It soothed her to get the few hours of sleep she could attain.

Hermione finally stood up, the cold floor tickling her bare feet. She scooted along the hall, her toes brushing past hanging blankets on her temporary mattress. She slipped socks over her feet to mask the chilling sensation on her heels. Walking down the hall was the hardest thing to do that morning, especially the brief sweep by the bathroom. There was a small, slender indent on the bathmat where Hermione squirmed and screamed. She could hear Snape's voice whispering in her ear, "Do you understand?" It sent tingles down her spine.

There was chattering and clangs downstairs. Hermione felt her chest flatten and tense at the sound of happy teens discussing over hot breakfast food. She reeled at the scorn firing around her head. How could she be this angry at them? They had nothing to do with Snape's attack? But in the narrowest crease of Hermione's brain was the notion that Harry, Ron and all the other Weasleys might have possibly had something to do with it. However, Hermione chose to ignore that pestering point at the moment. Instead she chose to direct her anger at Snape. His cold hands. His greasy, black hair cradling her cheeks as he quickly pulled down her clothes. Hermione already knew Snape was about as nasty as they come, but she never thought anyone could do something that vile. Dumbledore had been so bent on the idea that Snape wasn't a Death Eater. Hermione finally felt comfortable believing him, but now she couldn't even trust him.

Hermione wasn't going to tell anyone. She couldn't even bare telling herself, and she didn't think she ever could. It was the plaguing phrase of, "It will cause great harm to you and your friends if anybody is to know." That gave her such compassion for the idea.

Hermione glided down the steep, creaking stairs.

"Harry, I swear to God, if you eat one more piece of toast…" Rang out around the kitchen and corridor.

"Shhh...Hermione's still asleep, Ron." 's voice rang out even louder than her son's.

"I bet you I can fit the whole thing in my mouth." Harry gambled.

"No way. I can't even do that, and I have a bigger mouth than you." Ron said. "One sickle says I win."

"On!" Harry agreed.

Hermione walked into the kitchen to the vision of Harry Potter gurgling a full piece of toast. "G'morin' 'Ermne."

"'Morning." Hermione limply greeted.

"Good sleep, I'd say you've been out for a month." Ron joked, not breaking his doubtful glares at Harry as he shoved the toast all the way into his mouth.

"Be' ya'." Harry hollered.

"Okay, my coins are upstairs, one second." Ron stood up out of his seat and started for the corridor. Hermione took his space. She gagged as Harry spat out a slimy slice.

"Good morning Hermione." chorused. "There's toast, was toast, on the table. Feel free to help yourself." She offered.

Hermione took the most burnt piece of toast she could find, which was very difficult with the array of magnificent foods has crafted for her, Harry and the rest of Weasleys. She bit into it sourly, but it tasted of nothing, except for pure bitterness.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry asked her. But Hermione didn't hear anything. As she sat at the table, chewing at her toast, all she could think about was the previous night. She could hear Snape's cloak swishing by her ankles. It was such a creepy feeling.

"Hermione, did you hear me? Are you alright? Do you understand?" This brought Hermione back to reality.

"I'm fine. Tired." Hermione answered, swallowing her bite dryly.

"Really, you slept for almost fourteen hours, how could you be tired?" Harry asked, throwing his napkin with the tainted toast wrapped within it into the bin.

"Uhh...jus...just drowsy, ya' know." Hermione wasn't acting herself. She was shaking and looking off into the distance when she usually remained eye contact, Harry noticed.

"What's wrong?" He asked again.

"Nothing. I'm okay, really." Hermione confirmed, but Harry still seemed doubtful. Luckily, Hermione was saved by Ron speeding into the kitchen with a bright, shiny, silver sickle to reward to Harry for his toast triumphs.

"Here ya' go." Ron said, handing Harry the coin.

"Thanks."

"Unbelievable. I didn't know mouths could stretch that wide. How many times did you have to fold that?" Ron asked as he pulled a chair over to the table and took a seat next to Hermione.

"Maybe twice, three times. There's only so many times you can fold bread." Harry answered, returning to his regular, uninquisitive self.

"Mum, where are Fred, and George, and Ginny?" Ron questioned his mother.

"They're out getting the boys their special testing wands." confessed.

"Oh, _special testing wands,_ whatever they're used for?" Ron sassed. He gave a look at Hermione with slight confusion, but she didn't look up at him. Instead she stared at the floor.

"Umm...Hermione, aren't you going to come back at me with some comment about the importance of testing wands and their history throughout Africa or whatever?"

But Hermione remained silent, gazing at her feet, kneading a fist into her other hand. "Do you understand?" "Do you understand?" Ringing through her brain.

She understood it now. She understood the task at which she was given. She couldn't let anybody know. She couldn't let what ever horrible threat Snape was possessing to fall on her best friends, on Ron, on Harry. So, when Ron asked, "Hermione, are you okay?" Hermione answered with, "Yeah, I'm fine."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Two Weeks Later

Hermione had returned to normal. Well, not exactly normal. She was still having chilling nightmares of a figure draped in black hanging over her lifeless body, but she had finally been able to appear as normal as possible. Harry and Ron stopped doubting that something was wrong. Instead they just pestered her for the answers to their summer charms homework.

Now, everything was about Harry. His trial had been a success and he was going to return to Hogwarts once the term started. Harry was over joyed with this knowledge as he didn't have any sympathy for the alternate universe where he would have to live with the Dursleys the remainder of his childhood. He felt perfectly safe here, at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Sirius had brought happiness to the gaggle of teenagers as well. He had rekindled his interest, more like obsession, with the piano. It was one of the only things to keep him entertained as of late. He had been cooped up in inside the apartment for much time now, and besides for Harry, the music was about the only bit of sanity he had left. With all this talk of rebellion around the house, he found it difficult not to scream. Although, he did appear relaxed about it, he, more than anyone, knew what type of damage a rebellion could inflict.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George all fell in love with Sirius's magnificent playing and soon found it to be an almost daily tradition. As well as yelling at them to keep it down. She had never had a connection for classical music. But then again, neither did the children.

This particular playing is what brought Hermione back down to reality. The realization that no matter how disgusted she felt she must continue on. She had always convinced herself, that a busy schedule was the best way to get back on track, and somehow Hermione always seemed to be off track. She would take a walk in the morning. Do homework and help around the house, cleaning and such, around noon. And chat, and play games with Harry and Ron in the evenings.

Ginny and Hermione would stay up half the night talking. Ginny had hit her boys stage, and seemed to have an infatuation with every single one at Hogwarts, except for her brothers of course. This activity kept Hermione quite occupied so she didn't have to travel down to the terrifying depths which were her mind.

"Oh, and Dean Thomas, he's quite cute. He has such smooth skin. And he's so tall. If we were to hug I would fit right underneath him…" Ginny droned on.

Hermione lay on her mattress, pretending to listen and pretending to care. She played with her long bushy hair, laughing and chatting. Doing all of this while thoughts of cascading black fabric brushing past her hips. In actuality, it wasn't the best method for distraction.

Hermione had been mostly preoccupied with the many chores there was to do around the house. She was to dust and sweep and sort all of the many magical objects she found. However, she was finding it hard to continue this, as any time she came near to the moldy corners and dressers of Grimmauld Place, she would immediately run to the bathroom to gag. It gave off such a putrid smell that Hermione may have believed that she unearthed something poisonous. She expressed this fear to and the others, but they simply dismissed it. Although they did smell the occasional odor, it wasn't as nearly as bad as Hermione had described it to be.

did take concern in Hermione's continuous vomiting. She wasn't running a temperature, so, just thought it was something that Hermione ate. has been scared to cook ever since, and has either served something cold or easy to make, to the dismay of Ron.

Hermione wasn't too worried about her health. It was kind of all a blur. She didn't want to have to deal with being sick at the moment. Instead, she just kept quiet and on top of her busy schedule. It wasn't until Hermione noticed that she was late that the panic started to kick in. Hermione had always been regular, every twenty-eight days. But now it had been thirty-two. Sure, that hadn't been that much, but Hermione felt comfortable around order and this was not order. She started to list off what this could mean.

She eventually considered it to be stress, but that didn't stop her from panicking. This little irregularity made her finally take notice of all the other things plaguing her usual habits. She had been going to sleep in her normal manner, but that still didn't prevent from her being exhausted all the time. Nausea. A heightened sense of smell, when everybody else thought Hermione was just overreacting. Her breasts were definitely feeling some slight pain. All of these symptoms pointed to pregnancy, which was the last thing she wanted to think about.

Hermione's panic was pressed into over drive, like a bear awake in the middle of winter. She knew that to ever have order, she would have to get this over with. There was no way that she could be pregnant. Some witch or wizard must have made that a rule. Teenagers, especially rape victims, can't get pregnant. They must have thought of that.

So, Hermione convinced to allow her to leave the house for a walk. But walking wasn't all that Hermione was going to do. She trotted over to the muggle pharmacy. It was grim looking, not at all sterile as she would have hoped. It had a struggling height, hanging over her, like the one who gave her such horrible suspicions. When she walked in the reality of her situation washed over her. It was like a freezing bath of ice, running its cold fingers down her spine and neck.

Hermione stomped silently over to the pregnancy tests. She saw the very ones at the front, a pastel pink box with a lady smiling on the front. It made her absolutely disgusted. She grabbed the darkest box, no smiles displayed upon it.

She paid and ran home. _Over and done with, just like ripping off a bandaid,_ was coursing through her mind.

Walking up the creaking stairs to the bathroom was like walking to stool and noose. She couldn't bear it any longer. She was in the bathroom, staring at the exact spot where this proposition ever came into view. The test was rigid in her hand, like holding a wand uttering the death curse. Hermione only needed to wait three minutes and then the results would be revealed. Simple. It didn't seem so simple to Hermione. Those three minutes were agony. But it wasn't any agony compared to the sensation of flipping over the stick to find two pink lines.

Two lines.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Secret

Hermione barely got any sleep that night. Less than usual. Instead, it was pestered by thoughts of panic and strife. How was Hermione going to do anything? How was she going to wake up and everything be just as grand as before any of this happened? How was she going to tell Harry and Ron and without revealing the secret she is forced to keep out of fear of harm? Hermione didn't know the answers to these questions. She chose, at the current moment, to hide it away and wrap her body in the sheets. She would stay here until she died, if only Ginny hadn't reminded her that there was cleaning to be done and order to be kept. What order this had been?

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry asked later that day. He was dusting in the corner, Hermione cupping her mouth over the stench of mold and cockroach corpses.

"I'm f...fine." Hermione stuttered through a gag.

"Are you sure?" Harry questioned.

"I'm fine!" Hermione shouted in response. Harry was taken aback at this sudden outburst. He had always been a drama queen.

"What was that about? I'm just concerned." Harry said.

Hermione immediately realized what she had done. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm exhausted. Thanks." She looked down at her chest in embarrassment. I guess you couldn't blame her. She was more stressed than Percy on his N.E. , and that was a hard thing to be.

"But really, are you okay?" Harry asked again. He seemed to be very pressing.

"It's nothing. I'm just stressed about being a prefect." Hermione lied.

"Of course you are." Harry laughed as he returned to his dusting. "It's just, I've been having nightmares-"

"Really, what about?" Hermione shook in interest and worry.

"Well, it was Voldemort, as always." Hermione flinched at the name. "But he was with Snape. Hermione, I know he's a death eater, but Dumbledore doesn't believe me and I haven't talked with him in months. Do you think Snape's got Dumbledore somehow? Snape and Voldemort-" Flinch. "They were making plans, of some sort. I don't know what, but Vold-" He saw Hermione flinch this time. "Sorry, You-Know-Who, was enjoying it, almost cheerful. I've never felt him that cheerful before."

Hermione had no idea of what Harry was talking about, but the very mention of Snape made her face heat up with anger, the flames licking at her cheeks. Hermione was showing this on her face.

"Again, I'm sorry that I said You-Know-Who." Harry apologized, trying to return Hermione to her lifeless expression instead of the one full of hatred displayed right now.

"Thanks. I'm going to the bathroom." Hermione leaped out of her sitting position, happy to get away from the stench. She walked up the stairs and down the hall, fuming with thoughts of Snape. What was her agreeing too? Could it possibly have anything to do with Hermione?

Hermione twisted on the tap. She slid her hands underneath the cold water. It radiated with a cooling climate like a waterfall of wind. She splashed it onto her blushing cheats as a sweep of nausea overthrew her. She leaned over the toilet seat, hurling her breakfast into it, her face still dripping with the waterfall. She heard footsteps behind her, reminiscent of Snape.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted from the hall. Apparently he was the footsteps. He came rushing up behind Hermione. "Are you okay?"

Hermione coughed into the toilet in reply. Ron cupped her hair into his hands. Hermione squirmed. It reminded her of the cold fingers of Snape leaning her down on that exact bathroom floor. She shook him off and let her hair fall to the sides of her face, framing the bile that exited her limp body. Hermione paused, stood up, and washed her face once more underneath the waterfall.

"Hermione, are you still sick?" Ron asked.

"Obviously." Hermione chuckled awkwardly.

"Hermione, we've been friends for four years. I know when something's wrong. What's wrong?" Ron stared at Hermione in the mirror as she dried her hands.

"Nothing is wrong with me, Ron. Just stop asking."

"Please, just tell me, Hermione." Ron pleaded.

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean...it's just complicated, Ron, it's nothing to do with you. So, please, just stop asking!" Hermione ran from the bathroom, holding back tears. She entered her bedroom, slammed the door shut, and flopped onto her bed, sobbing into her pillow.

Ron, frustrated, retreated downstairs, to talk with Harry about whatever the hell just happened.

Hermione couldn't bare to listen to Sirius play piano that night. Instead, she took out her potion materials. Inside were many different herbs and fungi. There was every ingredient imaginable, from mandrake to basil. She had looked into her book for a potion to get rid of the thing that has caused half her stress. Maybe, she would even come across a memory serum to get rid of the blasted man that caused her so much pain. But, at the moment all she could come across was a poison. This poison would kill the fetus that lay rest within her uterus.

Hermione collected all of her materials and gathered in the bathroom. She drew water in the sink. She mixed together all of her ingredients into a cauldron. It made a frothy red color that drained Hermione of all of her energy. It made a perfumey, cleaning fluid scent, making Hermione go all dizzy. The room spun around her, but she carried on. Hermione ladled the correct amount into a cup. She was prepared to drink, holding the container up to her lips. She was ready to take a sip when Ron came rushing up behind her.

"Hermione!?"


End file.
